


Tossed About I'm Like A Ship On The Ocean

by starstruck_moon



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-magical AU, Shipwreck au, TW: Mentions of Past Child Abuse, mostly fluffy, simon and baz stuck on a boat together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck_moon/pseuds/starstruck_moon
Summary: Unbeknownst to each other, Simon and Baz board a ship going from England to the USA.Somewhere along the way, the ship crashes and they're forced to share a lifeboat.Stuck together, with no one else, they slowly begin to form a friendship.tw: past mentions of child abuse
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	1. Ship-wreck

I was in the canteen when it happened. The canteen was a large, well-lit room with huge windows looking out onto the vast ocean. You could sit there, eating the delicious food provided and watch the waves crashing gently around and feel the soft rocking of the ship. 

Penny was with me, too. We were going to America, the two of us, to see our friends Agatha and Shepard. (Although I think Shepard is more friends with Penny than me. They’re always skyping and texting, and although I join in sometimes it’s clear that they have a connection.)(We met him when we went to America for the first time to help Agatha settle into her new uni.) We were gulping down steaming bowls of tomato soup and soft white bread rolls.

I remember because it was the last hot meal I had for a very, very long time. (And also because I’m kind of obsessed with food. Ask anyone.)

Suddenly, there was a huge bang. 

The ship jolted. 

Things flew off tables; people fell off chairs. Penny cried out as some soup spilt onto her shirt and scalded her.

People were screaming, pointing out of the window. The two of us rushed to look.

The sea was a whole lot nearer to us all of a sudden. A craggy dark rock loomed over us, directly in front.

We’d crashed into it.

This realisation descended on everyone at once and panic turned to hysteria. Parents clutched at their children; babies wailed; people screamed, fell to the ground, cursed, prayed. We could hear people in other rooms on the ship too - like a switch had been flipped and everyone was frantic.

Penny and I looked at each other. Penny doesn’t get easily ruffled; she can stay calm in any situation.

Except this one - drowning is her greatest fear. Her brown eyes were wide and terrified. 

I took her hand and squeezed it, trying to crush the rising fear in my own chest. 

In the panic of the room, the PA suddenly started and it did nothing to help.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this ship is sinking. Please make your way to the lifeboats.”

As one, everyone surged towards the exit. The good thing about the canteen was that, although at the bottom of the ship, it was quite close to the lifeboats. We’d been made to do this several times, so everyone knew, in theory, the safety precautions. Many people did not follow it - there was a lot of jostling as people tried to return to their rooms to fetch items. I thought longingly of the brand-new laptop given to me by Penny’s mum for my twenty-sixth birthday, two months ago. But my most precious possession - a necklace that belonged to my mother in the shape of a cross - was safe around my neck.

Penny and I held onto each other and followed the majority of the crowd towards the lifeboats. I could feel her grip pressing painfully into my hand, but I was glad for it.

Just then, the boat jerked wildly again and an enormous woman crashed into me. I fell sideways, separating from Penny. I got onto my feet again and tried to find her, but she was gone, swallowed by the stampede. The crowd urged me forward too. Fighting the rising panic, I followed everyone to the lifeboats.

I was one of the last people on, having been temporarily . The crew were standing there, wearing life jackets, herding people onto boats - there were loads of them and they were trying to space people out. I got put into a lifeboat intended for two. I could see Penny in the distance, on a larger lifeboat with a family of five. She looked terrified and her eyes were darting everywhere, seeking me out. I tried signalling to her, but she was too far away to notice me - besides, everyone was doing the same. 

The ship sank a little deeper until the bottom level was half submerged in water. My lifeboat bobbed away from the ship. The crew jumped aboard another lifeboat as the entire bottom floor of the ship sank. This just made it sink faster; within minutes, the entire thing was gone. 

I turned to face the other boats. I had no idea what I was doing, but I pressed a button which made the engine turn on. There was a wheel and some levers. 

Under the steering wheel, there was a large drawer. I opened it, but a wave jolted the little boat and I fell over, getting my foot stuck in a nook on the side. It didn’t hurt, but it took me some minutes to extricate it and by the time I did, the other lifeboats were speeding into the distance.

Great. 

I had no idea where I was going and no idea how to steer the lifeboat. 

I managed to get the wheel and engine working at last, with the help of a manual that was tucked into the compartment (along with tins and tins of canned food, and a large amount of bottled water). If I could just keep the other boats in sight, I figured I’d be fine. Turning the boat, I could just see some orange specks disappearing into the mist.

I raced towards the boats, feeling slightly calmer than I had in the past half hour. I passed the few remains of the ship that were drifting - planks of wood, empty, waterlogged suitcases and, oddly enough, an inflatable pool float shaped like a flamingo (it might have been for the pool on the ship.)(The sight was both hilarious and depressing.)

Just then I heard a quiet, hoarse but unmistakable cry.

“Help!”

Cursing, I cast one last look at the other lifeboats and turned my boat around. There was no way I would be able to catch up with them now, but hell if I was going to leave someone to drown.

I scanned the wreck for the person who’d called out. The waves were getting pretty strong, so I was tossed around and found it hard to look. It was pretty misty too. I was a safe distance away from the rock we’d hit, but still felt a little worried.

I found them at last; two arms wrapped around a piece of wood that was floating and a head that kept disappearing and reappearing as waves crashed and sprayed.

It took me a couple of minutes to reach them and I summoned all my strength to pull them aboard. (Thank god for university rugby - it made me strong.)

The man I rescued was wearing a black suit, shirt now completely see-through and waterlogged. He lay on the bottom of the boat, spluttering and coughing up water. I hovered nearby, unsure what to do. The water got more turbulent, so I steered the boat away from the shipwreck, in the direction that I thought the other boats had gone. 

I checked up on the man. He seemed to be passed out (which terrified me, but he had a steady pulse) face down. I gently turned him over, glancing at his face. My blood ran cold.

Baz Pitch. Ah well, at least it was a familiar face.

…

  
  


I’d known of Baz since I was a kid. His father, Malcolm Grimm-Pitch, owned a huge fashion house. It was known for being expensive and ‘cultured’; they sold formal wear: suits, dresses, tuxedos - the kind of thing fancy people wear to fancy events. In short, the complete opposite of my typical gear. (Tracksuits, tees and hoodies.)

I got to know Baz himself when we were forced to share a room at Watford, the boarding school I got a scholarship to. 

In university, I had worked for a few months as a librarian. There had been a small kid’s section filled with children’s novels and a few picture books. I remembered one of the picture books called Opposites. It had examples of opposite words, like night and day, indoors and outdoors, hot and cold, that sort of thing. Me and Baz should have been on the first page. 

Baz was rich where I was poor; he had a huge, well-known family where I was an orphan; he aced tests effortlessly while I struggled to be average (except in physics and maths - I was good at that).

We never really made an effort to get to know each other’s personalities. We hated the principle of each other - I was the headteacher's charity case (that’s another story) that everyone liked and respected while he was the talented, handsome and mysterious boy that everyone was terrified of. We argued over petty things, like keeping the window open or eating in the room. 

I hadn’t seen him since I graduated, though. I know he went to Cambridge, but I lost touch with some of my classmates and had no idea where he went after that.

The next thing I knew, I was hauling him onto my lifeboat after we’d been stranded at sea.

This was going to be interesting.

  
  



	2. A new partner-ship

When I came to, Simon Snow was hovering over me with a cup of water. He shoved it and a biscuit into my hand. 

I swallowed down my surprise and other ancient emotions that came rushing up at seeing him and ate the biscuit, inclining my head in thanks. He avoided my eye. 

“The other boats are gone,” he informed me flatly. His voice was deeper than I remembered; it was nicer.

“Oh,” I responded lamely. How were we going to get somewhere dry? The ocean was vast and covered in a blanket of mist that made it doubly hard to see where we were. (I suspect the mist was the reason we crashed in the first place.) 

Simon looked at me. “I think they went that way,” he said, pointing the way we’re heading at the moment, “but it’s hard to tell with the mist”.

“Oh,” I said again, feeling slightly stupid. (I never feel stupid, but it seemed after almost nine years Simon Snow still had that effect on me.) Right now, I just wanted to dry out and then think. 

“What are we going to do?” I asked. Not that it would have helped. Unless Simon had radically changed since I knew him (unlikely), he wouldn’t have had a plan. 

“I don’t know,” he growled, predictably. He scowled at me. “What do you think we should do?”

“I’ve been conscious for two minutes, now, Snow,” I grumbled. 

His face softens. “No one’s called me that in ages,” he mumbled, confusingly. (Why wouldn’t they call him that? It was his last name.) “I think we should just carry on this way and hopefully bump into land at some point.” 

It was a very Simon plan - but I didn’t have a better idea. I shrugged. “Okay”

Simon hesitated. “Look, Baz…” he started. I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I - I know we’ve had our differences in the past. But we’re going to be on this boat together for a while, so maybe.. truce?” 

I smiled slightly at him. “You rescued me, Snow, so I believe I owe you that. Besides, we’re not teenagers any more, so yeah, truce.”

He beamed, relieved, and turned away from me to squint into the horizon. I studied his back and groaned inwardly.

Living on a boat with just Simon Snow for company would have been my worst nightmare, back when I was fifteen. Not because I was supposed to hate him, not even because I couldn’t bring myself to hate him.

Because I had been in love with him, and it looked like I still was.

…

We left the mist a few hours later, and entered a clear, sparkling part of the sea. There was no sign of the other boats though, and we didn’t know if we were even going in the right direction. We took the time to sort out our boat.

It was well stocked, with more than enough food and water rations to last us for a couple of weeks, although it was just energy bars and dry biscuits - not the most exciting. There was a lighter, too. I used it to dry my clothes. (I’m good with fire.)

There’s a small covered section too - enough to sit under - in the middle of the boat. The boat has a sort of tent cover as well, probably for rain or storms. We found a couple of lifejackets and put them on, agreeing to wear them at all times. (You ever knew what could happen.)

Simon somehow managed to crumble some of the bars and biscuits in proportions that made it a little more bearable - I have no idea how. (I’m used to Sunday roasts made by Vera and delicious business lunches, and even I found Simon’s Lifeboat Delight somewhat passable.)(That’s saying something.)

Simon blushed adorably when I told him that I was impressed. “I really like cooking,” he admitted. “Penny’s mum lets me use the kitchens in her hotel sometimes”

Mitali Bunce was the owner of a really big, expensive, 5-star hotel called the Coven. I’d stayed there a few times.

“You’re still friends with Bunce?” I queried, just to make small talk. (I also did want to know - I’m not sure Simon would have functioned in Watford if it hadn’t been for Penelope Bunce.)(She was terrifyingly smart - we competed for top our entire secondary school lives.)

His face dropped and he bit his lip, looking worried. “Yes, she was on the ship with me. I really hope she’s okay…” he stared into the distance. “I saw her on a lifeboat, she probably left with the others.”

“She left without you?” I asked incredulously. Bunce was literally Simon’s mother.

“We got separated - she must have thought I was on one of the other boats, there were so many people”

I nodded. “I’m sure she’s fine,” I said, trying to be reassuring. Reassuring Simon was not something that I was used to. It came out slightly awkward. Simon gave me a look, but didn’t say anything.

…

When it got dark, we pulled the covers up on one side, so there was space for one of us to sleep. It was fairly mild, so I just used my suit jacket to cover myself. Simon sat on the other side of the cabin and kept watch for a few hours. (Just in case.) I woke myself around midnight for my shift (my Rolex watch still worked)(not surprising, given the price) and found him curled up, dozing, the galaxy of moles on his skin reflecting the stars in the sky. His mouth was slightly open. I bit back a smile and covered him with my jacket and sat next to him, watching the stars.

He woke up with a jolt just as the sun began to rise, looking extremely confused. I wordlessly handed him a ration bar, and we watched together as the sun began to paint the sky with warm reds, oranges, pinks and yellows. It’s beautiful.

There wasn’t much to do apart from sit in the lifeboat and hope fervently that we’d reach land at some point (Simon was optimistic - I was not), so we talked quietly about what we’d been doing since we last saw each other. I learned that Simon had done an engineering degree in uni and he was working as a primary school teacher now. It suited him - he’d always been patient with others and had an infectious personality. He told me that he loved engineering because he was bad with words, but engineering doesn’t need words, only numbers. Also how he loved to cook, and baked something for his children every week.

I told him how I’m the opposite - how I did a law degree to try to find the words to empower others who don’t have a voice. How I wanted to follow my mother’s legacy. Simon smiled at that.

“I found my mother,” he said. 

“Really?” I exclaimed. “How?”

“You remember that article that Penny and I published in our last year about superhydrophobicity, the one that won the award?” 

I nod. It was a really good article and got featured in our newspaper. 

“Well, my mum’s friend from school, Ebb, recognised it and sent me an email. Apparently, my mum always said that she was going to give her child the middle name Snow. Her name was Lucy Salisbury, so that makes me Simon Snow Salisbury”

My heart dropped faster than a diving killer whale. Lucy Salisbury?  
I knew that name - Fiona had told me a couple of stories about her. They’d been good friends - Mitali, Fiona, Ebb and Nicholas Petty, Lucy and one other person who’d dated Lucy. If my suspicions were correct, I knew who Simon’s father was.

Simon was still talking. “And it turns out Mitali was friends with Lucy too, only she didn’t know that I was Lucy’s son because they had a fall out, which is when Lucy told Ebb that she was going to give me the middle name Snow. Mitali told me loads about my mum and even promised to try and find my grandmother, who’s still alive apparently. No one knows what happened to Mum, though.”

Cautiously, I asked “Do you know who your father is?”

Simon frowned. “No, I asked Mitali but she said she didn’t know. She was acting a little weird, though”

It seemed that Mitali Bunce had the same idea I did, then. I guess she had a reason not to tell Simon but I felt that he deserved to know.

He beamed at me then. “You know, Baz, I think we could have been friends if we hadn’t, you know, been made to be enemies and all that”

I forced a smile. “Yeah, we could have been”

I wasn’t going to tell him today, then.

… 

It’s true that my family was a bit… elitist. We’d always been like that - my dad’s company did support a few charities and stuff, but it was mainly for the image. From a young age, I was taught to look down on people who were not as well off or civilised as us. My mum was the headteacher of Watford. She wasn’t as condescending as he was, but I don’t think she’d ever met anyone who didn’t have a good job or family money.

Enter Simon Snow, fresh from an orphanage, talking in slang with a rough accent, wolfing down food in minutes, gaping at every chandelier and fancy painting. He was exactly the kind of person I was supposed to despise.

I did, at first. But Simon surprised me - peeling away the initial layer of bumbling naïveté, he’d been charming, smart and likeable in his own way. By our third year, I’d been prepared to put aside my prejudice and be friends with him, if it hadn’t been for two things - firstly, Simon had picked up on my contempt and now disliked me back as much as I had disliked him. Secondly, my family pressured me to hate him and it wasn’t in my agenda to go against them (at that point - me coming out kind of changed that. But that was after school) and so I kept up a pretense all through fourth and fifth year. 

Then I realised that I was in love with him in fifth and that made it a lot harder. But if there’s one thing I’m good at (there’s actually several) it’s poker faces, so I managed.

The thing is, Simon was kind of Dr Mage’s pet project. (Dr Mage was our headteacher.)(I’m pretty sure he didn’t actually do a doctorate, the pretentious slimeball.)

Dr Mage really hated our family. He wanted change to the school, bringing in scholarship students et cetera. Which was fine and all, except that the only non-elite student in the school was Simon and he was Dr Mage’s poster boy, making him look good in front of the governors. He’d also made loads of changes, turning the nursery where I grew up into a sports centre - like we needed another one - and renovating half the library that had been built in my mother's name into a larger office for himself.

Then in our last year, after we finished A-levels, there was a bit of a scandal. I was still not sure of all the details, but I did know that Simon and the Mage (as we called him) had an argument and the Mage got kicked out of his position. I didn’t know where he went.

But if Simon was really the son of the Mage, then he was definitely not going to be happy about it.


	3. Facing hard-ship

We’d been afloat for two weeks now, with no sign of any other vessels or of land. It was… interesting. I’d probably have been bored out of my mind and desperate to reach land, but it was somehow okay; we had enough rations, dull as they were (once a school of fish jumped literally into our boat and we ate them for dinner); the weather had been mild, nice even; the ocean was beautiful and we sometimes could see the myriad of weirdly wonderful sea creatures just below the surface; the gentle rocking of the boat was soothing and at night the stars were spectacular. And then there was Baz beside me. He made for great company.

I knew he felt guilty about me rescuing him instead of following the lifeboats. This was stupid because a. I wasn’t sure that I could have kept up with the other lifeboats - they had been pretty far ahead and rescuing Baz only set me back ten minutes or so, b. he would have drowned if I hadn’t helped him and how could I have let him die? Any decent human being would have done the same.

We talked a lot to pass the time. I learnt things about him that I never knew, even after sharing a room with him for a year and being in most of his classes in school. Like the fact that he had had large metal retainers that he’d been insecure about, only visible when he was eating. (Which was why he always covered his mouth when eating back in school.)(I was convinced he had fangs.) I thought this was adorable, especially considering Baz had always been flawless, untouchable. Chatting with him like this made him a little more human.

He was still so graceful, though. Handsome, graceful, strong. (Perfect.)

I think I was in love with him.

It took me a while to accept it - for one thing, I’d always thought I was straight. I’d had a couple of girlfriends. But that wasn’t the problem.

I’d hated Baz since we met, how could I have been attracted to him? It didn’t make sense. 

When I thought about it, it made perfect sense.

I’d always been obsessed with him, wanting (needing) to know where he was, what he was doing. Penny had a quota on how much I could talk about him, for heaven’s sake. And now that I was discovering his true, human self - now that I was his friend - I just felt more attracted to him and realised it for the first time.

I was good at just not thinking about things, so once I’d realised how much Baz meant to me, I just accepted it and put it out of my mind. I thought about him constantly, of course, but when I was with him, I didn’t think about his chiselled jaw or the gleam of his hair. I just focused on the breeze and the azure water and let his warm voice wash over me.

We kept count of the days and the time with Baz’s watch. We had no idea where we were headed - there was a compass in the lifeboat, so all we knew was that we were heading east, which was roughly the direction the ship had been heading.

It was the fifteenth day when the weather started changing. The winds picked up, rocking our boat uncomfortable. A mist set in, obscuring our view of the horizon. The sky turned grey and the ocean with it. 

We tried turning around, but in vain. I felt a slight panic set in as the ocean grew more and more turbulent. Baz, too, looked slightly worried, though he tried to hide it. (Years of scrutinising his face means I know his expressions.)

We sat huddled together in the small cabin area after putting the transparent waterproof covers up. The cabin was only really meant for one person to sit in, but we squashed in there together. I didn’t mind the proximity - in fact I cherished it. Baz made me feel grounded and safe as the winds picked up and the waves towered over us.

Our little boat tossed and tumbled as the sea boiled angrily around us. We didn’t get too wet - the waterproof covers served their purpose well. The menacing grey clouds raced above the howling winds and the waves crashed around us. It was terrifying. At some point, I grabbed Baz’s hand as we anxiously watched the churning ocean.

The storm settled at some point, and the clouds cleared to reveal a glorious blue sky. The seas settled too. The worst of the storm couldn’t have lasted more than ten or twenty minutes, but it had felt like hours.

We didn’t move, just stayed there, still huddled together, still holding each other’s hands. I heard Baz exhale softly, relieved. I looked up at him (he was slightly taller and I would never forgive him for it), into his soft grey eyes, so different from the grey of the storm but no less beautiful. He looked back at me and smiled gently. I reached for his other hand and leaned in slightly.

Just then, something slid across the boat and landed with a thump on the side. We jumped apart as though waking from a trance, letting go of each other as though burned. I cleared my throat awkwardly and promptly bumped my head against the door and winced, though I was rewarded for this by Baz stifling a laugh (adorable). 

I checked on whatever had moved. It was an empty bucket that had been knocked out of place during the storm - in fact, a lot of things had moved. We tried to keep stuff tied down as much as possible, so we hadn’t really lost anything.

We carried on sailing for a few days. The weather was lovely now, no sign of a storm. (Although that last one had been completely unexpected, so we kept our guard up.) I constantly thought about what happened after the storm. What it meant. 

It was evening and we were eating mashed ration bars (delicious!)(that was sarcasm) and watching a school of silvery fish under our boat when he turned to me.

“Simon”, he said, then hesitated uncharacteristically. 

I looked at him. He never called me Simon. He started again.

“What happened with the Mage?”

I glanced away. It’s not really something I wanted to think of, but time had helped close that wound.

“It’s fine if it’s not really something you want to talk about” Baz added quickly. 

“No, it’s fine,” I responded. I took a breath.

“So you know how the Mage always took me with him when he visited the governors? You know, to show them the amazing things he was doing and how inclusive the school was becoming?”

Baz nodded, making a face. 

“Well, he usually gave me a script to say beforehand, which was fine. It exaggerated the truth a bit, but I didn’t mind too much. I was just so grateful to him for taking me out of the care homes, I didn’t even think about the fact he was putting me straight back in for summer -”

“Wait, he sent you back to the care homes?”

“Yeah, for the first few years. It was a different one each time. I only told Penny in fifth year and she told me to come spend summer with her family, so I did. It wasn’t too bad.

“But at the end, something happened and the Mage wanted me to lie completely. He wanted me to tell the governors that he’d made special arrangements for me to stay at Watford and that he’d written a special letter of commendation to the universities I applied to, and a whole list of other lies. I said no, of course, and we argued for a while, for the first time. Finally he took me to that house he had, you know, in Watford Village and locked me up in a bedroom and told me I couldn’t leave until I agreed to tell the governors.”

I trailed off and took a deep breath. Baz looked horror struck.

“I stayed there two nights, sleeping on the floor. There was no electricity and only a small, grimy window. It was dark and there were cobwebs and insects everywhere. When the Mage came for the third time, I agreed to lie to the board. But then I told them what happened instead. They were shocked. The Mage was livid, of course, but there was nothing he could do.”

Baz shuddered. “Simon, that’s awful,” he exclaimed.

I gave him a small smile. “It’s fine now. It took me a while to recover and I had nightmares for the longest time. I visited a therapist, who really helped me, and I had the support of my friends. He can’t hurt me anymore - he got five years in jail and I don’t even know where he is now. I did look at him as a father once, but by the end it was obvious he didn’t care about me at all.”

Baz’s expression shifted again. He looks slightly scared and anxious.

“Simon…” he said softly. “There’s something I need to tell you. You’re - you’re not going to like it”

I glanced at him, confused. His eyes were troubled.

“What?”

He took a deep breath. "Simon - I - no. I can’t do this”

I was really confused now and a little freaked out.

“What is it, Baz?”

“Simon, Davy Mage is your father”

All the blood drained from my face. I reeled backwards like I’d been slapped.

“No. No, you’re wrong.”

“Simon…”

“You’re wrong. You’re just saying that to hurt me. I thought we - I thought we were getting along. Why would you say that?”

I was rambling. Baz looked hurt and concerned.

“Simon, Fiona was friends with your mum, Lucy, and she said she was always around the Mage. It makes sense, Simon. I’m really sorry.”

“No, no it doesn’t make sense. I can’t believe - ”

I backed into the other side of the boat. I felt really angry, but I wasn’t sure why. There was no way that the Mage could be my father. Part of it felt like betrayal - I thought Baz and I had something, but then he turned around and hurt me again.

…

It took me a few hours to calm down. I realised more and more, with a sense of creeping dread, that what Baz said could have been true. The Mage did kind of look like me, with the same nose and face shape. He knew my name as soon as he met me and knew exactly where to find me. 

Why would he do that to me?

I pushed thoughts of the Mage out of my mind (I’m quite good at that) and went to find Baz, only to find him gone. I panicked wildly for a few seconds, and then saw him resurface from the sea around five metres in front of the boat. Turning, he saw me and did a graceful breaststroke towards the boat, hoisting himself up, soaked through. I tried not to look at the water dripping from his eyelashes and his wet hair. He smiled tentatively at me. I’ve never seen him so unsure of himself.

I threw my arms around him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I felt him tense up and then hug me back. 

“It’s fine,” he murmured. “Are you okay?”

We broke apart, and he looked at me. I felt tears begin to leak from my eyes. 

“I believe you, about the Mage” 

He sighed. “I’m sorry. It really sucks. But Simon, I would never hurt you”

I frowned. “What about all those times at school? You pushed me down the stairs, Baz”

“That was an accident.”

I sniffle and wipe my eyes. Baz puts a dripping arm around me, but says nothing. (I’m grateful for that.)

We stay like that for a few minutes, me crying softly and holding on to Baz.

Suddenly, Baz stiffens and shakes me gently.

“Snow, look!”

I glare half-heartedly up at him. “Simon”

“What?” he asks distractedly. 

“You called me Simon before”

“Okay, fine,  _ Simon, _ look over there”

I turn and straighten up. In the distance, just visible, is an island.

  
  



	4. The ship sets sail

We hadn’t thought that the island was inhabited when we first saw it, and we’d been right. It was clearly an island (not a peninsula) and a very small one at that. We could walk all the way around it in an hour.

It was a lovely island, though - white sandy beach, a sparkling pool in the middle, tall trees full of luscious fruit and a row of small caves big enough to rest in. 

We built a fire using dry wood in the forest area and the lighter from the boat. We still had no idea where we were, but we were comfortable. The fruit provided a welcome reprieve from the ration bars.

It was picturesque; I wanted to stay forever. Just me and Simon and the whole island to ourselves.

We’d already been on it for almost two weeks. There was a part of me that was worried that I’d never see my family or friends again. I started to miss Dev and Niall and Mordelia and even Fiona. (There was a whole list of people, but these were the main four.)

I started to miss other things, like a hot water shower and cooked food. There was plenty of fruit on the island and we killed a couple of wild chickens (Simon did, quite cheerfully)(I just flinched at the worst bits) but it just wasn’t the same as Daphne’s cookies or the chinese place Dev, Niall and I get takeaway from.

We settled into a routine, but there wasn’t really much to do. We kept the fire going to cook on and gathered fruit to eat. We swam in the small tinkling pool. At night, we took turns telling each other stories, both real and fiction. (Mine included a lot of vampires and Simon usually included him fighting something with a sword.)

I would have thought, a long time ago, that two people spending so much time in each other’s company would have been bound to hate each other. Our case was quite the opposite - Simon and I grew closer together. It felt like he was my whole world - and he was, in a way. I thought Simon grew closer to me too; earlier on our tiny boat, we always respected each other’s personal space. But now, despite the fact we had an entire island to ourselves, we spent all our time in each other’s company and sat squashed together. (It didn’t really help drive away my feelings, but I’d given up on doing that literal years ago.)

It was everything my fifteen year old self had ever dreamed of. (In fact I’m fairly sure I did fantasize about the two of us living on an island together. It wouldn’t have been out of character.)

Except that we weren’t together, not really. But for the moment, I was fine with smiles that brought the sun out just for me and laughs that caused my heart to beat at double its usual speed. I was fine with lying together on the soft ivory sand, watching the sun painting the sky orange, gold and pink as it set.

I wanted more, but I kept the wanting to when I wasn’t with Simon.

Today was one of these times, when I was swimming in the pool. The island had a clear freshwater pool roughly the size of an Olympic swimming pool and about as deep in the middle. There was a small waterfall on one side, that kept the water flowing and not stagnant, where we drank from. It tasted cool and refreshing against the heat of the island.

I’d learned to swim at a young age so I was quite good at it. Simon could swim too, but his strokes were clumsy and he couldn’t keep it up for long, splashing around everywhere. (It was adorable.) I’d left him lounging on the beach building a sand castle. (Also adorable.)

At some point, though, I heard a slight movement in the bushes on one side of the lake, behind me and felt his presence. I turned to find him quietly watching me lazily swim through the water.

He smiled at me when he realised I saw him and sank into the water to join me. I leant against a low-hanging tree branch and watched him attempt breaststroke. After a few minutes, I sighed.

“You’re doing it wrong,” I said. He scowled at me. 

“I think I’ve gotten better since we came, actually,” he replied indignantly.

“You have, but your technique is wrong”

“Come and show me, then, if you’re so good at it”

I shrugged and swam towards him, ostentatiously showing off my technique. He scowled at me again and I laughed.

“Here,” I said, reaching out to him. “Give me your hands and just practice moving your legs.”

He took my hands and I felt myself going slightly red. “Try now,” I said.

Instead, he straightened himself up, so he was standing on the pool floor like I was. We were really close together - I could see straight down into his blue eyes. He reached up to cup my face and suddenly kissed me.

I froze in shoeck, and he drew back, looking embarrassed and disappointed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking away and going red.

“No - I - ”

I kissed him again.

We stayed in the pool for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos + a comment if you liked it!


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